These aren't the kinds of matters, ours aren't the least fragile of hearts
So to give in and say in love is in vain,
what spills from our wrists when we touch
must come out of our mouths, for each other to welcome in the open canals
That we hear, not the screaming for the sake of something else
We lean before we leave, a moment it takes to agree to trust each other
We create this room all the time, we have now, we decide how and give space
to say or not say
You are stranger on the street, I am speechless without a thing to say
I don't doubt his love for me, with caution for words move forward
We grow more loving this I know because I feel what I know and need not say
Because what language is there for love but love anyway?
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